“Gosh, no. I love the rail. The people are much nicer down here.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re smiling.”
“It makes a difference, doesn’t it,” she said, her expression suddenly so vulnerable he felt bad.
He reached up and gently stroked her cheek. “Yes, I generally find it does, honey.” Her eyes widened but he let his finger touch the side of her mouth before lowering his hand. He looked over her head as Shane boosted the jockey onto Chippy’s back, and Red led the prancing chestnut toward the track. “Do you want another beer?” he asked. “Maybe another hat?”
“I think one cap is enough. But I would enjoy another beer.”
He bought two beers while she detoured to the betting window. Then they slipped into a prime spot near the finish line. Chippy was warming up well, not fighting the escort pony although he tossed his head, clearly eager to enter the gate.
“Horse has the desire but unfortunately not much ability,” Dino said. “Too bad he can’t run like Echo.”
“I can’t tell those two apart,” she admitted. “I thought it was Echo in the hot walker this morning.”
“Chippy was in the walker?” Dino stiffened. “Today?”
“Slim said he was just stretching Chippy’s legs before the trailer ride.”
Dino turned and studied Chippy. The hot walker was unusual but Chippy looked good, so whatever Slim had done seemed to have worked. Too bad Slim hadn’t done the same thing for Echo.
The starter called the horses. One by one, the runners disappeared into the gate.
“Let’s hope the seven horse comes out blazing,” Dino said. “Chippy needs a fast pace.”
“What about Total Surprise?” Becky asked. “Is he a closer too?”
“Ben’s horse has the same style as Chippy,” Dino said, “but he’s in the one hole. Sometimes when you’re stuck on the rail, you have to throw away caution and go for it.” She met his gaze but quickly looked back at the horses. “And sometimes caution is a good thing,” he drawled.
“Horses are in the gate!” the announcer blared. The crowd stilled, air thickening with anticipation. Clang! The gates opened and nine horses burst out.
A good start. Martha’s distinctive yellow silks were visible. Chippy galloped smoothly and had come away fifth. As expected, the speedy seven horse led the way, and Total Surprise was tight on the rail, running second.
Becky jumped, bumping his arm with every bounce. Pink stained her cheeks as she strained to watch the pack of galloping horses. He wrapped his hands around the rail, determined not to touch her again, afraid he might scare her.
He stared at the horses, trying to concentrate on the race and not the woman beside him. The seven horse had opened up a five-length lead while Total Surprise still hugged the rail in second, and Chippy plugged along in his usual steady fashion. Might be okay. The time of the first quarter was a blistering twenty-two seconds, the half in forty-five. Already the seven horse weakened.
The pack relentlessly closed the gap on the faltering leader. As the horses rounded the turn and entered the stretch, Total Surprise grabbed the lead with Chippy running third.
Come on, fellow. Dig deep. Dino’s grip on the rail tightened as Chippy battled with a gray storming up on the outside.
Chippy’s ears flattened as he fought to fend off the wave of horses. Inch by inch he pulled away, closing ground on the leader. You can do it, boy, Dino willed, watching Chippy inch up to the leader’s shoulder, then to his nose. The two gallant horses crossed the wire as one.
“Wow!” Becky said as the tote board flashed ‘Photo Finish.’ “That was the best race I’ve ever seen. Even better than the stakes races. I couldn’t see the numbers though. Who was the horse beside Chippy?”
“Total Surprise.” Dino grinned. “So if you boxed your bet, you got the exacta. Good job.”
She nodded but her expression turned wistful. “It’s a shame one of them has to lose. They tried so hard. I couldn’t help but cheer for them both. And that old trainer wore his best hat. He’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t win.”
Dino gave her elbow a quick squeeze. “I know how you feel. But I want to win too, so save your cheers for me. Beside, it’d be nice to have a picture with you in it. Now finish your beer because I think Chippy got it on the nod.”
Her eyes widened although he didn’t know why. From their vantage point at the finish line, he was quite confident Chippy had won. Another two feet and he would have been certain. The horse had a big heart, and even though it wasn’t a stakes race and didn’t count toward his training bonus, he’d receive a percentage of Chippy’s winnings.
“Martha isn’t going to like this,” Becky said. “She wanted me to dress up for the winner’s circle. I brought new clothes but forgot to change.”
“Martha doesn’t hang this type of picture,” he said. “Only stakes races go on the wall.”
Her eyes widened with indignation. “But these horses tried every bit as hard, maybe harder.”
“Sure they did. But Chippy isn’t a homebred. He’s by some obscure Canadian stud.”
“I see.” Her expression turned glum. “So no matter what Chippy does, he’ll never be important because he wasn’t bred by Malcolm?”
“Exactly. And only horses born at Conrad’s are retired there. That’s why Lyric can stay.”
“That’s sad. I wonder if Chippy feels second-class, like an orphan.”
“That’s crazy.” He started to laugh but sobered when he saw her expression. She really looked worried. “Horses don’t think like people, Becky. And no one is second-class unless they believe that themselves. Chippy is a very confident, happy horse.”
The crowd roared, and he swung around to check the board. The flashing red numbers showed Chippy on top. Excellent. “Come on. We won.” He grabbed her arm, hustled her past the security guard and into the winner’s circle.
Minutes later, Red led in Chippy, followed by a grinning Shane. They clustered around the bright-eyed horse. Dino scanned the throng for Slim, but the man was nowhere in sight so he turned his attention back to Becky, enjoying her delight as she was presented with a wooden plaque with ornate gold lettering.
“Can I pat Chippy now?” she asked once the photographer lowered his camera.
“Yeah and don’t forget to thank the jock,” Dino said. “Brad gave him a good ride.”
Brad leaped off Chippy’s back, teeth gleaming against his dirt-smeared face. He said something to Shane then grinned as Becky stepped up, patted the horse and extended her hand. Whatever he said made her smile, and she surprised Dino by leaning over and kissing Brad’s muddy cheek.
The jock grabbed his saddle and sauntered to the scales while Becky watched him with a rapt expression.
“Jesus, Becky,” Dino said. “Don’t look at the jock like that. He’s already too cocky.”
“Where’s he going?”
“To weigh out. Then to the jock room to change his silks for the next race.”
“He just looks so…fit.”
“Of course he’s fit. He’s an athlete, one of the top riders at Lone Star.” Dino put his hand on her hip and guided her out of the winner’s circle. She still had a dreamy look, like she wasn’t even seeing him, and he had the urge to dip his head and kiss her. Make her notice him.
“I don’t think you should have any more beer,” he said, using the streaming crowd as an excuse to keep his hand around her waist. “We’ll go to the backside after the stakes race. And you’ll have to change your betting system. This is a big race so every trainer will be dressed up.”
“But I have to go.” She shrugged. “Slim wants to leave now.”
“And I want you to stay,” he said.
Chapter Thirteen
Chippy stretched out his neck, eyes closed, grunting blissfully while Red massaged his muscular hindquarters.
“Do you massage him every day?” Becky edged closer, reassured to see the personal attention the horse received. Ever since
she’d learned Chippy wasn’t one of Martha’s homebreds, she’d had a special empathy for the gelding. She knew what it was like to have no family.
“I always massage them after a race,” Red said. “But some horses appreciate it more than others. This guy laps up any sort of attention.”
“I have some carrots in the truck. Would it be okay if I gave him a couple after you’re finished?”
“Sure. Boss won’t mind.” Red flexed his fingers and moved further down Chippy’s rump. “But I always feed peppermints. He may never have tried a carrot.”
“I know what you mean. Last night I gave Echo a carrot and she acted like she’d never seen one before.”
Red’s forehead wrinkled in disbelief, but his strong hands continued to work on the horse. “I’m pretty sure Echo’s had her share of carrots, being bred at Conrad’s and all, but if you want to give Chippy a treat, go right ahead. You’re the owner.”
“Only the owner’s rep,” she said, but very softly. This was too great a day to worry about semantics.
By asking Becky to come in her place, Martha had given her the best gift ever. From the time she and Dino had returned from the last race, everyone in the shedrow had treated her like a princess. Sure, it helped that Dino had dropped a flat of beer in his office along with chips and tortillas and announced that she’d bought them—all the staff had been delighted to help celebrate Chippy’s win.
All but Slim. She glanced over her shoulder to where he slouched against the wall by Echo’s stall. He hadn’t been at all happy when Dino had ordered him to stay.
At least it had given Echo more time to recover. The filly looked energetic now. Her head poked over the door, hay protruding from her mouth. Her shrill neigh made Slim wince but energized Chippy, who raised his head and answered.
“Don’t you mind that filly, Chip,” Red said, not interrupting the rhythm of his skillful hands. “You’ll have a new best friend tomorrow.”
“Do you think Chippy and Echo are friends because they look alike?” she asked.
Red laughed. “No, it’s just that horses hook up fast. These two were shipped in the same trailer so that made them good buddies. Echo is herd bound at the best of times.” He smiled. “Chippy will get over it. Track relations are always temporary.”
“Yeah, guess so,” she said, refusing to look in the direction of Dino’s office. For three glorious hours at the races, she’d had him all to herself. But it was seven o’clock now and several people had drifted in from other barns.
One girl looked like Stephanie and was probably an exercise rider. The other was taller and spoke with some sort of accent, but they both had throaty laughs and were clearly enthralled with anything Dino said or did. Becky pasted a smile on her face and tried to block their flirtatious giggles.
Shane strolled down the aisle, clipboard in hand, and paused by Chippy’s stall. “How’s the champ now?”
“Seems to have come back fine,” Red said. “Dino wants me to use that new liniment Doc left. I’m almost finished here.”
Shane nodded and turned to Becky. “Want a last beer before you and Slim hit the road? A final celebration for your betting success?”
She laughed. “You’re the one who taught me how to bet. Thanks for that, Shane. I’m sixty dollars richer because of you.”
“Thirty.” Dino’s lazy drawl sounded behind her. “You still have to pay for the beer and chips.”
She checked over his shoulder, relieved to see the fawning girls had vanished. “Be glad to,” she said. “It was a great day. No wonder Martha loves this.”
“Martha only watches stakes races. Doesn’t generally leave her box. And never drinks beer.” Dino’s smile deepened as he flicked the brim of her hat. “Doubt she owns a ball cap that says ‘Hot Fillies’ either. But it was a good day, in spite of the scratch.” His voice lowered. “Echo is fine to ship now, and Slim’s itching to hit the road. But if you’re uncomfortable driving with him, I can take you home.”
She paused, stunned by his generous offer. She definitely preferred Dino’s company, but it was a lot of extra driving and she’d heard him schedule three works for six a.m. tomorrow. It wouldn’t be reasonable to ask him to drive her home when he had to be at Lone Star so early. “It’s okay,” she said. “But thanks. What do you think is bothering Slim?”
Dino’s gaze hooded as he glanced at Shane and Red, and he guided her away from Chippy’s stall. “Not sure.” His voice was low and regretful. “Slim was never a joker. But he used to be good with the horses. Since Malcolm died, he’s different. I’m going to suggest to Martha we bring in another barn manager—on a temporary basis of course. Give Slim some time to work out whatever’s eating him.”
Becky blew out a regretful sigh. She didn’t think it would be that easy; Slim was Malcolm’s long-time manager, and Martha stuck rigidly to her husband’s wishes.
Dino misunderstood her silence. “Slim’s not doing his job. And he should never have questioned my decision to scratch the filly. Something’s wrong, and I can’t let poor judgment hurt the horses.”
“Of course,” she said slowly. “But sometimes Martha is very stubborn…and loyal. Slim might be just worried about his daughter.”
“He’s worried about something. Regrettably it’s not the horses.” Dino’s jaw clamped. “And that’s my job. So tomorrow I’ll be talking to Martha. I also want to use a private shipper instead of having Slim haul. Now do you want a drive home, or what?”
“I’ll travel with Slim and the horses,” she said. “Slim is always okay with me.” Not quite true but she didn’t want to admit otherwise, not when Dino looked so angry. Funny though, he didn’t scare her. His anger was different from the anger of other men. Controlled, never mean. And he and Shane had been wonderful company. Her voice softened. “Thanks for the great day. It really was fun.”
A smile curved his mouth. “Beer does that, Becky.”
“I didn’t drink that much.” She grinned back. “You cut me off at four.”
He reached down and again flicked the brim of her cap. “Should have cut you off at three before you started ogling all those jockeys,” he drawled. “Come on. We’ll wrap that filly and get you on the road.”
Slim looked relieved when Dino turned and signaled for Shane to bandage Echo. “It’s damn late,” Slim said. “Who’s wrapping Chippy?”
“Chippy’s staying,” Dino said, his voice curt.
“But that wasn’t the plan. The gelding runs good from Conrad’s.”
“And he’ll run good from here too. So might Echo and all the other horses.” Dino’s voice hardened, and there was no evidence of any drawl now. His words were clipped and challenging.
Slim’s face reddened and for a moment, it looked like he was going to argue.
Becky stepped between them. “I meant to tell you this morning, Slim,” she lied. “Martha asked that Chippy stay at Lone Star.”
“If that’s what she wants, fine.” Slim wheeled, not looking at her. “Don’t matter to me. I’ll get the trailer.”
Slim stomped away and she debated the wisdom of asking him to wait so she could collect her carrots. He’d been wanting to leave for hours. Still, Chippy deserved something other than his usual peppermints, and it was her last chance to treat the gelding. She glanced down the aisle.
Shane was still wrapping Echo’s legs so she probably had about five minutes to grab the carrot bag from the cab and rush back. If she hurried, she wouldn’t delay Slim one bit.
Decision made, she rushed from the barn and jogged after Slim. He must have heard the crunching gravel but didn’t slow. Didn’t even look back.
“I need to get the carrots Martha sent for Echo,” she said, panting from the sprint. “They’re locked in the truck. I think Chippy deserves a few, don’t you? Won’t take but a minute.” She knew she was babbling because, despite her assurances to Dino, Slim’s presence was rather unnerving. Clearly the man wanted to get home.
Slim raised his hand so quickly
she flinched, but he merely pointed the remote. The truck lights flashed, slashing the night with red. Door locks clicked.
“Thanks.” She inched her way through the gloom, swung open the passenger door and grabbed the bag of carrots from beneath the seat. “I’ll meet you by the shedrow. Promise to be really fast.”
She rushed back to the barn, almost tripping in a pothole, but the barn lights were a friendly beacon. Dino, Shane and Red stood in the illuminated aisle beside a bandaged Echo. The filly looked vastly different from the tired animal that had stepped off the trailer. Her head was high, eyes bright and she craned her head, nickering repeatedly at Chippy.
“Where you going with those carrots?” Dino asked, his voice amused.
“I promised Chippy a couple,” she said. “I’ll go in the stall so the other horses don’t see.”
“You do that,” Dino said. “Maybe he’ll stop calling to the filly too.”
Chippy looked at her with inquisitive eyes when she entered his stall. She pulled out three carrots, remembering how Lyric had grabbed the bag, almost devouring a piece of plastic. And plastic wouldn’t be good for a horse.
She held out a carrot. Chippy sniffed then took such a tentative bite it dropped in the straw. “Hurry up, fellow,” she said, bending down and scooping it up. But there was no rushing him—he ate exactly like Echo. Agonizing slow nibbles, so different from the gluttonous Lyric and almost every other horse she knew.
She leaned over the door and nervously scanned the aisle. Echo had disappeared, along with the men. Slim was probably waiting, probably cursing.
“I’ve got to go, fellow. You’re too slow. You’ll have to pick those other two off the floor.” She snapped the carrots in bite-size pieces, watching as he snuffled at the straw. “Thanks for trying so hard. You’ll always be a champ to me.” She gave his neck a grateful pat and rushed outside.
Slim and Dino fastened the ramp, and Echo’s frantic neigh reverberated throughout the trailer. The men, however, were silent, the air taut. Becky pulled open the door and scrambled into the passenger’s seat, eager to escape before Slim and Dino had an irreparable argument.
Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) Page 82